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PSALM 93:1,2,5

1/29/2016

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                                                                         Psalm 93:1,2,5
​                                   
                                            The Lord reigneth
                                               He is clothed with majesty
                                                  He is clothed with strength
                                                     wherewith he hath girded
                                                         himself
                                            The world also is stablished
                                               that it cannot be moved
                                                  Thy throne is established of old
                                            Thy testimonies are very sure
                                               Holiness becometh thine house
                                                 O Lord, for ever


                                  
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WITH WHITE GENTLE PEACE

1/29/2016

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                                         WITH WHITE GENTLE PEACE
                                         
                                                                  With white gentle peace
                                             Throughout the land
                                             And solemnity all around
                                             How blessed we are
                                             To have a savior 
                                             Go with us
                                             In the new year
                                             Forthcoming
                                             How blest we are
​                                             How blest we are

                                             (Written on January 29,2016)
                                             with revisions made on February 20, 2022)

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DON'T PLAN SATURDAY

1/29/2016

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                                                          ​DON'T PLAN SATURDAY

                                               This past 
evening, Donna and I
                                               were discussing all the numerous activities
                                               our family was planning to participate in,
                                               come Saturday.

                                              The more we planned, the more it dawned
                                              on us that it was not too wise, to plan too
                                              much, too far in the future.

                                              Far too often, if we plan too much ahead,
                                              then we worry too much about how we'll
                                              get it all done in the time allowed.
                                              And, we get tired just thinking about how
                                              tired we'll be after the day is done.

                                             We are learning, although slowly at times,
                                             to live well, today and...let Saturday take
                                             ​care of itself.
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PSALM 92:1,2,5,8,12,13

1/21/2016

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​                                       PSALM 92:1,2,5,8,12,13

                                       It is a good thing to give thanks
                                         unto the Lord
                                            and to sing his praises
                                               unto thy name, O, most High
                                     
                                       To shew forth thy lovingkindness
                                         in the morning, and thy faithfullness
                                           every night
                               
                                             O, Lord, how great 
                                             art thy works
                                           and thy thoughts 
                                          are very deep
                       
                                       But thou, Lord, 
                                       art most high
                                       for evermore

                                  The righteous shall flourish
                                  like the palm tree
                                  He shall grow like a cedar
                                  in Lebanon

                                  Those that be planted
                                     in the house of the Lord
                                       shall flourish in the courts
                                         O our God
 




                                                 
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THE LAST BABY (1977)

1/21/2016

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​                                               THE LAST BABY (1977)


                                    Every year, newspapers and magazines  
                                    across our land sport pictures and 
                                    stories about the first baby to be born 
                                    in the New Year. Prizes are often 
                                    awarded to the young child and his or  
                                    her beaming parents. And, rightfully, 
                                    congratulations become the order of 
                                    the day.

                                    But, in the this New Year, we would like
                                    to congratulate that baby boy or girl

                                    that was the last to be born in 1977.

                                    For you, in essence and in actuality
                                    became the last best hope of the old
                                    year.

                                    You have a heavy responsibility for one
                                    so young. You just may salvage this
                                    old year for the good.

                                    Future generations may look back to
                                    1977 and say. "Well, '77 wasn't all
                                    bad. After all, look who was born on
                                    December thirty-first!"

                                    (Well, here we are, thirty-eight years
                                    later. How have things turned out for
                                    you so far? We hope life has treated
                                    you well.)
                                    



                           



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SHORT PEOPLE

1/21/2016

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                                                   SHORT PEOPLE
                                   
                                         "You know honey." said we to
                                         our wife, "We can't understand why
                                         so many people are getting so up-tight
                                         over that new record out about short
                                         people."

                                         "Maybe they're short-sighted," said
                                         our wife as she began mixing the dough for
                                         some short-bread. "how come your're home
                                         so 
early?"

                                         "We took a short cut. We jogged home."
                                         
                                         "I thought you sounded a little short of
                                         breath. Sort of short-winded...that's
                                         what happens when you hit middle age. When
                                         we were married, you were short and pleasingly
                                         plump."

                                         "Let's eat, we're hungry."

                                         "Well, go wash your hands, they're
                                         filthy."

                                         "Guess next you'll be telling us our 
                                         toes look funny, too?"

                                         "Oh no, in fact, we only wish your nose
                                         was as cute as your toes."

                                         "Listen...dear! Perhaps we should change
                                         the subject or cut this conversation, er, uh,
                                         short. You know how short-tempered we can get."

                                         "All right, dear...Are you going to play
                                         softball for the church team this year?"

                                         "We suppose so."

                                         "What position?"
                           
                                         "Er...Short Stop"
​                                                
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PSALM 91:1,2,4,5,11

1/14/2016

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                                                                   PSALM 91:1,2,4,5,11,

                                   He that dwelleth in the secret place
                                       of the most High
                                   Shall abide under the shadow
                                       of the Almighty
                                  
                                   I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge
                                     and my fortress
                                   My God. In him will I trust
                                   
                                   He shall cover thee 
                                       with his feathers
                                       and under his wings
                                       shalt thou trust
                                   His truth shall be thy shield
                                       and buckler 

                                   Thou shalt not be afraid 
                                       for the terror by night
                                          nor for the arrow 
                                            that flieth by day

                                    For he shall give his angels 
                                  charge over thee, to keep thee
                                 in all thy ways




     

                                 
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GOLDIE AND TRIXIE

1/14/2016

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                                                                                GOLDIE AND TRIXIE

                                Please don't think we're too overly senti-
                                mental. But, we think their story ought to
                                be told.

                                They were both pre-Christmas specials.
                                And, economically, old daddy Scrooge
                                couldn't complain too, too much. For after
                                all, they only cost twenty-nine cents each.

                                But, when Tammy Lee came home hold-
                                ing them in their transparent bag of water,
                                those two goldfish might as well have been
                                the most expensive and exquisite fish
                                in captivity.

                                Goldie and Trixie's life span was shorter
                                than we hoped. (We had hoped they would 
                                survive through the Christmas holidays.
                                But, it was not to be.)

                                Tammy took their deaths rather stoically,
                                but we suspect she felt the loss in her heart.
                                And her loss became our loss, and her hurt,
                                our hurt.

                                
Cheap you say. Only twenty-nine cents. Why,
                                Goldie and Trixie, your worth is immeasurably.

                                Like fleeting rainbows, ice-cicles, and scamp-
                                ering pawns, you brought a little Christmas
                                into our home early this year. 

                                (Last article of 1977)

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BE A FRIEND

1/14/2016

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                                                    BE A FRIEND

                                      Wrote Mary A. Lorberg, "If only all
                                      the hands that reach...could touch."

                                                    Oh Father let us
                                                    Who've been reaching
                                                    So very long
                                                    Begin to touch       
               
                                                    Let us touch
                                                    The Master's garb
                                                    And worship thee
                                                    In holy adoration

                                                    And having touched
                                                    And having been touched
                                                    May we touch others
                                                    And be a friend
                                                    To man and God


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THE YEAR JUST AHEAD 

1/8/2016

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​                                       THE YEAR JUST AHEAD

    
                         There're brilliant canvases to be hung
                              And new songs to be sung
                              There's daily tasks to be done
                              And glorious victories to be won
                              In the year just ahead.

                              There're old sins to be forsaken

                              And reaching hands to be shaken
                              There're steep mountains to be climbed
                              And terse poems to be rhymed
                              In the year just ahead.

                              There're marvelous visions to be revealed
                              And wounded souls to be healed
                              There're accomplishments to be measured
                              And family moments to be treasured
                              In the year just ahead.

                              There're prayers to be said
                              And hungry children to be fed
                              There're sheep to be shepherded
                              And little lambs to be led
                              In the year just ahead.

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